The Phoenix Code

by Catherine Asaro

  "Let us do our job right," Raj said.

  "I can't let you turn me off." Ander's arm snapped out and hit the door. He pulled it back with a snap, holding it tight against his ravaged torso. "You'll take me back to NEV-5."

  "Would that be so terrible?" Megan asked.

  "Yes! I don't want MindSim to make me a fake human." Ander took a breath and air crackled through his chest. Bitterly he said, "After seeing what my kind can do, I'm not sure I want to be an android either."

  "Grayton doesn't define you," she said.

  He leaned against the door. "How did Homer put it? 'Shower down into my life from on high your soft radi­ance and warlike strength, that I may drive bitter evil away from my head ... Give me the courage to live in the safe ways of peace, shunning strife and ill will and the vi­olent fiends of destruction.' "

  "That's beautiful," Megan said, astounded. She didn't remember any module or section of Ander's code devoted to poetry.

  "What is it from?" Raj asked.

  "The Homeric Hymns," Ander said. "To Ares, the god of war."

  "You never stop surprising me." Megan studied his in­juries. "Raj and I can probably fix enough here so that you can manage until we do a full repair."

  "What full repair?" Ander closed his eyes. "If we go back, MindSim will destroy me. Oh, maybe they won't take me apart. But they'll make me docile and sub­servient. After Grayton, I can't even blame them."

  "We'll refuse to do it," Raj told him.

  "Then they'll find someone who will."

  "Ander, we won't let it happen," Megan said. "Let us help."

  Ander opened his eyes and looked at her for a long mo­ment. Then he gave a tired smile. "It must be your red hair. Arick Bjornsson had a thing about that color." With a sigh, he dropped the guns on the floor.

  Megan reached out with care, not ready to believe he meant it. But he didn't try to stop her when she picked up the guns. Relief surged through her, so intense it hurt. She gave the weapons to Raj and he set them on the front seat, out of Ander's reach.

  "So." Ander simply sat, as if waiting for them to be­tray his immense act of trust.

  "Can you stretch out back there?" Raj's voice had a kinder quality now, an implicit acknowledgment of the risk Ander had just taken. "The work will be easier if you're lying down."

  "I think so." As Ander maneuvered around, Megan slid out of his way, wedging herself into the area behind the driver's seat. Ander lay on his back, bending his legs so he fit in the limited space. Then he stared at the roof of the car, meeting neither of their gazes.

  Raj climbed into the back and sat on the armrest be­tween the two front seats. As he set his hands on Ander's chest, the android's lashes dropped closed. "Don't turn me off."

  "I won't." With a surgeon's touch, Raj began to open the devastated remains of the android's torso.

  Ander swallowed. "I wonder if they've taken Grayton apart yet."

  "Try not to think about it." Megan grimaced as she ex­amined his torso. The bullets had done even more damage than she realized, tearing apart his internal organs.

  Bent over in the cramped confines of the car, she and Raj worked with painstaking care. They catalogued Ander's injuries, giving the car's computer a verbal tran­script of their work. To rebuild him, they took pieces of his interior framework, even parts of his shredded sweater. Megan used bits of undamaged filaments to re­pair the torn ones and Raj redesigned his circuits to by­pass damage they couldn't fix. They sewed, molded, and shifted components, patching him into a whole again.

  Raj astonished Megan. Even after her many years in the field, rubbing elbows with the best, she had never worked with someone so gifted. He operated like an arti­san, focused with such intensity that she wondered if he even remembered where they were. What quirk of fate had produced this genius? Perhaps his gifts had always existed in the human gene pool, but their expression never gained recognition because no practical use had ex­isted for such abilities until the age of robots. Or perhaps he was unique.

  Finally he sat back and rubbed his neck. His stiffness didn't surprise Megan. Her own limbs ached after so many hours of concentrated work.

  Ander opened his eyes. "Are you done?"

  "For now," Raj said.

  The android peered at himself. His torso looked strange, but complete now, a patchwork of colors and textures: metal-gray, Lumiflex white, mottled greens, even a purple section from a spare lattice inside his body.

  "We'd better go." Raj climbed into the driver's seat and slumped back, his face pale with fatigue.

  Megan got into the passenger's seat and moved the guns to the floor, touching them as little as possible. "I'd like to stop at a hardware store too. We need some more parts."

  "Hardware." Ander gave a harsh laugh. "That's me."

  "No," Raj murmured. "You're life."

  Megan turned the windows transparent. Outside, ban­ners of cloud stretched across the sky, lit from underneath by the sunrise so they resembled the bands of Jupiter: pink clouds, gray sky, fluorescent red clouds, green-tinted sky, porcelain blue, then dark red clouds again. Shadows cloaked the landscape. Hills hunched in black silhouettes, with the sharp thrust of a boulder here and there. A cres­cent moon hung above them, ringed by haze. The lights of a jet flickered in the west.

  "Such beauty," Ander said. He took an audible breath. "Megan? Raj?"

  They turned to him. "Yes?" Raj asked.

  Ander spoke in a stiff voice. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." The trust implicit in his two words meant more to Megan than she knew how to express.

  Raj's voice gentled. "We have to decide our next step. We need to contact MindSim."

  "We should go to Louisiana," Ander said.

  "Louisiana? We can't do that."

  "Your corporate offices are there." Ander rubbed his palm across his chest, as if to reassure himself that he was whole now. "That lead could be a Phoenix android. Sup­pose he was injured in the explosion? If he needs fixing, you're a person he might try to reach."

  "I have no corporate offices," Raj said. "I go where my clients send me. My home is in Manhattan." The sub­merged grief in his voice reminded Megan of the night he had told her about his father's death. He continued in a low voice. "The Louisiana address is my parents' house."

  "Then why is it listed as one of your offices?" Ander asked.

  Raj sat back in his seat and stared at the desert through the windshield. "I work from there when I'm visiting home."

  "A Phoenix android might not know that," Ander said. "That file you took from the Pentagon had your Louisiana address."

  Anger snapped in Raj's voice. "When are you going to quit with that cockeyed story about my stealing some file?"

  "Then who at NEV-5 did it?" Ander demanded. "BioSyn, our trusty server? The LPs? Or hey, maybe you did, Megan."

  "Louisiana is too far," she said. "We need to take you to a hotel and do more work. Our fixes are only tempo­rary."

  Ander made a frustrated noise. "Raj, will you at least call your father from the hotel and find out if anyone con­tacted you?"

  Raj put the magkeys in the ignition. "I can't do that."

  "Why not?" Ander asked. "All I'm asking for is that one act of good faith. It's not like it would cause you any trouble."

  "I won't reach him." Raj started the car and the lights inside went out, leaving them in the shadows of a violet predawn. The rumble of the lifting motor vibrated through the car, followed by a low roar as the turbofan spooled up.

  "Of course you can reach him," Ander said. "They're at home. I checked last night."

  Raj swung around. "You let those punks break into my parents' house?"

  "Just the outer layer of their system. We couldn't get past its security." Dryly, Ander said, "It's been pro­grammed by an expert. You, in fact. We did verify that both your parents have used their e-mail in the past few days, though."

  Raj stared at him. Then he turned back and gripped the wheel. "It's time to go."


  "I didn't hurt them," Ander said.

  "Leave him alone," Megan said.

  "What did you expect?" Ander demanded. "That we wouldn't follow every lead? Raj lives in Louisiana and one trail led there. I had to check everything."

  "It's not that." Megan watched Raj guide the car for­ward. She wanted to offer comfort, but she thought he would probably push her away.

  Raj spoke in a hollow voice. "My father died."

  That stopped Ander cold. But only for a few seconds.

  "Then who is the Professor Sundaram giving a math sem­inar at the university tomorrow?"

  "You made a mistake," Megan said.

  "No. I'm not mistaken."

  She glanced at Raj. He continued to drive, his face guarded.

  "Raj?" she asked.

  "If his father is dead," Ander asked, "why didn't we find an obituary or a news article? He's a prominent man."

  "Leave it alone," Raj said.

  Ander frowned, scrutinizing them with the probing gaze he had learned from Raj. Ill at ease, Megan toed the guns on the floor in front of her.

  They fell silent after that. Using the light pen and screen in the dashboard, Megan worked on the car com­puter until she undid the locks Ander had put on it. Then she blocked it from wireless signals. Raj had deactivated Ander's wireless capability, but it didn't hurt to be safe.

  "Input Alpine as our destination," Raj said.

  "Alpine?" she asked.

  He indicated a map on his dash. "It's a city south of San Diego."

  "I wouldn't have imagined a desert city called Alpine." The map showed it in the mountains. She entered "Alpine" into the guidance system. To the computer, she said, "Give me Web access."

  Raj tensed like a compressed coil. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm going to contact MindSim." She also meant to alert her Vegas contact. Given the discrepancies in Raj's and Ander's stories, she thought it best not to reveal that General Graham's people knew someone at NEV-5 had stolen Pentagon files.

  "Car, block all Web access," Raj said.

  "Why?" Megan stiffened.

  "We can't be sure we've nullified everything Ander did to the car. A hotel console will be safer." Raj glanced at her. "And using the Web makes us visible. Those hackers could trace us to this car. The less we're on the nets, the better."

  Although everything he said was logical, it still made Megan uneasy.

  "I didn't do anything to the computer," Ander said. "Except make sure you two couldn't use it." He was sit­ting behind Raj's seat, his elbow on the armrest. Although he looked relaxed, strain showed in the rigid set of his shoulders.

  "How can we be sure?" Megan asked.

  "Because I told you I didn't do it."

  "Yeah, right," Raj said. "Like you told us you did nothing to Megan in the Solarium."

  "All right." Ander threw up his hands. "I'm the one who knocked you two out in the Solarium. Satisfied?"

  "Finally!" Raj said. "The truth."

  Megan leaned against the headrest of her seat, watch­ing Ander. "Is there anything else you would like to tell us?"

  "Everything else I've told you is true. Including about his father."

  Raj just shook his head. Megan could almost feel his grief. Whatever the truth or falsehood of his other claims, his sorrow was real. Yet Ander insisted Raj was lying—and gave just as strong an impression that he believed his own words.

  They whirred through the dawn, across a desert rip­pled with ridges, rocks, and dusty bushes. "Driver con­trol," Raj suddenly said.

  "Transferred," the car said.

  Raj pulled to a stop and got out of the car without a word. Then he strode off into the dawn. He halted about ten meters away from the car and stood with his arms folded around his body, gazing at the desert.

  "What was that about?" Ander asked.

  "What you said about his father hurt him."

  "His father is alive! He's been answering e-mail, teach­ing classes, and giving talks."

  "Ander, I don't think he's making this up." Megan tried to think what could have caused the discrepancy. "Could it be one of his other relatives?"

  "No! It is his father."

  Megan had no answers. She wanted to go to Raj, but thought he probably preferred to be alone. Otherwise he would have stayed in the car. She also couldn't risk leav­ing Ander by himself.

  A few minutes later, Raj came back. He opened the door far more gently than he had closed it.

  When they had driven for a while, he said, "I'm sorry."

  "For what?" Ander asked. "Your lack of acting abil­ity?"

  "Shut up." Raj sounded as if he were gritting his teeth.

  Megan glanced at Ander. "Leave it alone, okay?"

  The android clenched his fists on his knees. Then he turned and stared out the window.

  Megan picked up the Winchester at her feet. As they drove, she held it on her knees, unsure whether she meant it as protection against Ander or Raj.

  *21*

  Net of Betrayal

  Cool air hit Megan as she and Ander entered their room at the Country Inn in Alpine. The genuine wood furni­ture gleamed. Ivory wallpaper covered the walls, accented by a red and brown pattern. The rustic curtains, elegant four-poster bed, and vase of flowers on the table com­pleted the pleasing atmosphere. Under different circum­stances, she would have loved it.

  Ander leaned against the wall and pushed back his hair. It had grown in the past months, at about the rate a man's hair would grow. The android needed a haircut.

  The thump of the bolt ramming home made her jump. She turned to see Raj locking the door. The sight of him with the assault rifle unsettled her. He had carried it hidden under his old jumpsuit, which lay draped over his arm.

  "I don't want to leave you here," he said.

  "I'll be okay," she said. Ander was in no condition to attack her or anyone else. He hadn't finished rewriting his code to incorporate Raj's repairs, which meant his condi­tion was worse now in some ways than before they had worked on him.

  "I'm not going to ambush her while you use the bath­room, if that's what you're worried about," Ander said. As if to punctuate his words, his left arm flapped out and hit the wall. Grimacing, he grabbed it with his right hand and yanked it against his side.

  Raj gave her the rifle. "I'll be right back." Then he crossed to the room and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Megan looked around. The console was in an armoire made from warm red-brown wood. An ergonomic chair stood in front of it, the room's only concession to high-tech furniture.

  As she walked to the console, Ander said, "Are you going to call MindSim?"

  "I might." It was exactly what she intended to do.

  "Megan, wait."

  "You know," she said, stopping at the console. "I'm re­ally tired of people saying that every time I try to make this call."

  He came over to her. "Give me a chance to prove I'm not lying. Let me call Raj's parents."

  That gave Megan pause. Raj's mother actually wasn't a bad choice. Both MindSim and the military were proba­bly in touch with her, looking for Raj. "All right. But I make the call."

  "Fair enough."

  It took the computer almost no time to find the num­ber; Raj's family was the only Sundaram in the area of Louisiana where he had grown up. She set the phone speaker so Ander could hear the conversation. Then she placed the call. She left the visual off, though. She saw no point in giving away more than necessary when she wasn't sure what waited on the other end.

  A woman answered. "Good evening." She had a British accent, which perhaps explained Raj's tendency to use British slang.

  "Hello," Megan said. "May I speak to Professor Sun­daram?"

  "Just a moment," the woman said.

  Megan swallowed. Just a moment. That was it. No shocked silence. No "I'm sorry, that is impossible," or any other indication she had just asked to speak to the dead.

  A man came onto the line. "This is Sundar."

  Megan slowly sat
in the chair. Behind her, Ander spoke in a fierce, exultant whisper. "I told you!"

  "Hello?" Sundar said. "Is anyone there?"

  His strong Indian accent surprised Megan. At NEV-5, Raj had told her that his great-grandfather had immi­grated to the United States and that the Sundarams had lived in Louisiana since then. She knew accents could last for generations in a community from the old country, but his family had been isolated. Why would the grandson have such a strong accent?

  "Who is this?" Raj's father sounded annoyed.

  She took a steadying breath. "Is this Professor Sundaram?"

  "Yes? Who am I speaking to?"

  "This is Megan O'Flannery. I work with your son—"

  "Dr. O'Flannery!" Concern surged in his voice. "Where are you? Is Raj there? What has happened?"

  "What are you doing?" Raj asked sharply.

  Megan spun around. He was standing a few paces away, staring at her.

  She answered in a low voice that didn't carry to the phone. "You bastard."

  "Megan, don't." Raj started toward her.

  She whirled back to the console and snapped on the vi­sual, revealing herself to the man at the other end. He al­ready had his visual activated. He was a fit and hale eighty-five, with gray hair and an unmistakable resem­blance to Raj.

  She spoke fast. "We're in the Country Inn by Ayres at Alpine, south of San Diego."

  Raj came to the screen. "Hello, Father."

  "Raj!" Relief washed over Sundar's face. "Are you all right? People have been asking for you, military types."

  "Who?" Raj sounded calm. If Megan hadn't been next to him, she wouldn't have known he was angry. But she recognized the tight set of his jaw.

  "A general," his father said. "Man named Graham. He told us to let him know if you contacted us."

  "What else did he say?"

  "He asked about Dr. O'Flann—" Sundar's image van­ished, replaced by blue screen.

  Raj frowned at Megan. "Why did you cut him off?"

  "I didn't." She looked around at them, her unease growing. "One of you did."

  "I didn't touch a thing," Ander said.

  Raj's voice hardened. "You don't need to." He indi­cated a light glowing on the console. "It's receiving IR right now."